Full Moon Feral (7 page)

Brendan groaned, trying to find a comfortable position since he was once again chained in place. Trying to get his mouth to work seemed impossible, so finally, he tried to work his lids open. The room seemed too bright as the fluorescent lights shone down upon him. Brendan winced, and his blurry vision faded again, the room going blessedly dark once more.

“Ripley,” Brendan moaned.

“He’s in the next bed over. He’s awake but getting checked out by Lachlan.” Dalton grabbed his hand, and Brendan hissed in pain.

“What happened? Is everyone okay?” Brendan remembered the hellhounds surrounding them, Ripley being bit and then a crazed haze of distortion which was the fight. The fighting had been brutal, and though he remembered it all, it was like a deep, wild instinct took over to allow him to protect his mate and friends.

Brendan’s vision was clearing up, and he glanced up at Dalton who shook his head. “We lost four guards, and there are several with injuries. You and Ripley…” Dalton swallowed before Elder Lewis came over and placed a hand on Dalton’s shoulder, squeezing.

“Can I see Ripley?” Brendan asked.

Elder Lewis came over and began removing the chains that held Brendan down. “You’ve been out for well over a day now, as has your mate. We had to run some tests, and we are going over some theories right now, but quite honestly, we don’t have a lot of answers at the moment. There hasn’t been a feral recovery and an Omega that has taken in feral blood like you have.”

Brendan was sick of being in the dark. “What
do
you know, sir?” Brendan wanted to snap, growl, but deep down, he knew the Elder was just as new to this as he was.

Malach stepped forward, a limp in his step. He slowly sat in a chair next to his bed. “I’ve never seen anything like what you and Ripley did out there. One moment, you're in the center, and the next, you were in full bloodlust in the fight. You were fighting hellhounds while hurt and still nothing seemed to faze you. Ripley was the same way only...” Malach swallowed before he continued, eyes haunted, “more. Much more. He was actually stronger than the hellhounds, taking sometimes two or three at a time.”

Brendan glanced over at the bed to see Ripley stirring, legs moving restlessly, still chained.
Is he okay?
“Ripley?”

Ripley groaned and opened his eyes before slowly turning his head. “You okay, Bren?”

Brendan smiled even through the pain at the thought that his friends had rubbed off on Ripley enough that he was using their nickname for him. “I’m okay. Sore. You?”

“Feel like I ran into a brick wall. Is everyone okay?” Ripley tried to sit up, feeling the resistance. “Mind unchaining me, please?”

Malach leaned over and began removing the chains.

“Every time I wake up, I’m in these. Fuck, I’m sore.” The chains came off, and Ripley sat up, crawling over to Brendan and pretty much falling on the bed.

“We weren’t sure what state you would be in when you woke up. If you were in bloodlust still, we had to ensure everyone in here was safe. This is all new to us. In the meantime, we’ll watch you in here for a little bit; then, we can have you go back to your room and finish healing.” Lachlan approached and began checking Brendan over.

“I knew him,” Ripley said, and the entire room went silent.

“Who? The hellhound?” Elder Lewis stepped up next to Ripley.

Brendan just stared at Ripley in shock.

“He worked in Lansing. Not sure where, but after work, a group of us would go to this bar, and he was always there with a tableful of guys. Cocky, arrogant bastard. Yeah, I know him.”

Elder Lewis stared at Malach as he came over. “Is he the one that got away?”

Malach nodded. “One of them, yeah.”

The room was silent for a few moments, and Brendan continued to stare at Ripley. Ripley just stared at him as others began to discuss what this could mean. Brendan bit his lip, trying to hold back any emotion. He could have lost Ripley.

“Lachlan, can we have a moment, please?” Ripley’s voice was raspy as he gripped Brendan’s hand.

The doctor looked over at Elder Lewis, who nodded, and in a matter of minutes, the entire area had cleared out and the curtain had been closed.

Ripley looked down at him, hands shaking as they cupped Brendan’s cheek. “I was so scared you weren’t going to be okay.”

“I’m fine. When I saw that hellhound hurt you…all I saw was red. From there, it was this wild instinct I’ve never experienced before. I just wanted to hurt the hellhounds, destroy them,” Brendan glanced down at Ripley’s arm, which was healing but still sported an ugly wound.

Brendan glanced back up, and Ripley was inches from him, sweeping a long piece of hair out of his eyes. Leaning forward, Ripley gently placed his warm lips on his. Brendan's breath hitched, and he could feel the damn tears pool in his eyes. He hurt everywhere except where the soft, full lips touched his. Their first kiss since they met.

Ripley leaned back, stroking his thumb over Brendan’s lower lip. “I just had to know.”

“Know what?” Brendan whispered.

“That you were alive. I can’t do anything right now. You’re hurt, I’m hurt, but if I could just have something that little…yeah, I just needed to know.” Ripley glanced down at the bed.

Brendan's arms shook as they lifted to Ripley. They had a mind of their own, and his hand-and-eye coordination was for shit right then, but he wanted to assure Ripley. His hands touched Ripley's heated neck, moving onto the back of his head then pulling him down for another kiss. This one was just as gentle, just as soft, a gradual simmering burn that was the start of something special for the both of them. This was the beginning of their journey as one.

They stayed the night in the infirmary. It wasn’t planned, but Lachlan wanted to make sure Brendan and Ripley were okay before they left to heal.

Brendan glanced down at his body as he got ready to go back to his cell. There were so many injuries that he had no fucking clue how he had lived. He just remembered wanting to take everything out in his path, not even feeling any pain at all. Thank gods, he had already shifted, because even though they had to heal the old fashion way, nice and slow, shifter blood always helped speed it along.

Ripley stretched next to him, displaying scratches, bites and a deep gash in his tan side. His arm was wrapped in gauze. Ripley covered the wounds as he pulled a shirt over his body.

Then, Brendan walked over to him and smoothed the shirt down over the hard muscles.

Glancing up, Brendan saw Ripley staring down at him with soulful gray eyes. How much they had changed since he'd first locked onto that gaze. Sighing, Brendan wrapped his arms around Ripley.

“Everything’s going to be alright,” Ripley said as he made small circles on his back with his hands.

Brendan breathed into Ripley’s chest. “You think so?”

“We’ll work through it together one day at a time. That’s all we can do and make sure we help each other out.”

Brendan nodded before he pulled back. They opened the curtain to walk out, and Brendan gasped. So many! There were just so many people in the infirmary, all injured. Lacerations, deep bite wounds and apparently breaks from all the casts and enough bandaged wounds to see that they had narrowly escaped the battle with their lives.

Dalton was helping Lachlan out, changing bandages, and Brendan watched Dalton tend to the hurt any way he could.

Brendan saw Colin and Sloan sharing a bed. Sloan had stitches on his head and was wearing a sling while sitting next to Colin who didn’t look any worse for wear except for the dark circles under his eyes that attested to his lack of sleep from worrying about his mate.

Rayce was on the bed, snarling. “I’m fine. I need to get back to work.”

“You have a concussion, Rayce. You won’t be going back to work for quite some time,” an older doctor said as he checked a particularly nasty bite on Rayce’s arm.

Peyton sat in the corner in a chair, knees drawn tight to his chest. His head was bowed on his knees, and he rocked slightly.

Brendan walked over and hugged Peyton.

Peyton trembled in his arms.

“How are you?” Brendan asked, knowing Peyton had already seen too much in the last couple months. This was his second attack, and by Peyton’s haunted eyes, it had taken its toll on him.

“He won’t let me help him.” Peyton’s voice was so damn weak.

“Give him time. He’s not used to being the one to have to be taken care of,” Brendan soothed.

“But he won’t even…accept me.” Peyton sat back in the chair, drawing his knees up once again.

Brendan glanced over to see Rayce had his lips pursed while looking at Peyton, an obvious internal battle going on, but he voiced nothing, nothing at all. Knowing that the two would have to figure it out on their own, Brendan went to find Ripley.

Ripley was standing over the next bed, flexing his hands in agitation. Walking up beside him, Brendan glanced down and…
Oh my gods, Oren!

Oren's skin looked feverish, and sweat dampened his forehead and neck. His sheet was down around his waist revealing his bandaged shoulder, but even with all the wrapping, blood was still seeping through. Oren was asleep, but clearly, it wasn’t peaceful by the whimpers escaping pale, dry lips.

“What happened?” Brendan reached out to grab Oren’s hand.

Dalton tucked the covers around Oren. “A hellhound got him good. They think he’ll be okay, but he’s having horrible nightmares.”

Dalton was an Omega that exuded confidence, strength and intelligent that at times left Brendan in awe. Now, Dalton seemed worried and unsure for the first time. He was showing his true twenty-two years instead of always seeming beyond them. Brendan was right there with him. Oren looked bad.

He wasn't even allowed enough time to let his thoughts settle in before Oren shot up in the bed screaming.

Ripley reached for Oren’s flailing arms, and Dalton screamed for the doctors.

“Oh gods! Oh gods! He’s coming for me! He’s…he’s,” Oren's screams ended on a sob before the doctors rushed back in and laid him down, giving him meds to calm him.

Brendan reached for Ripley, and they held onto each other until Oren fell back into a fitful sleep.

“C’mon, we should head out and get back to our cell. You need the rest,” Ripley said as he kissed Brendan’s temple.

“But our friends…” Brendan started.

“Are in good hands. You need to heal, and it’s time you went back to bed.” Ripley pulled him toward the hall, the two limping back to the cell together.

“I just got out of bed,” Brendan grumbled.

Ripley chuckled before he groaned, grabbing his side. “We both need to get back in bed. What’s the matter, you don’t like sharing a bed with me?”

The joke would have come out a lot funnier if Ripley hadn’t grimaced while winking.

Brendan grabbed his hand, thinking his mate needed the bed more than him. “Love sharing a bed with you. Now, come on, our bed awaits.”

A week had gone by while they healed, but it had passed slower than the two expected. Ripley sat up, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, his body felt healed as he got out of bed. Brendan was nowhere to be seen, and Ripley assumed that he'd gone back to his room to shower and get ready for the day.

It was still a week away from the full moon, and Ripley had no clue what to expect. The fact of the matter was he had been so feral before, he didn’t remember his shifts, and he knew what pain had done to him in the fight with the hellhounds. It had turned him into a berserker.
What will the change do?

Trying to keep those thoughts out of his head, he went into the bathroom, undressed and got in the shower. Damn, this felt so good. He simply stood there as the hot water worked over muscles that had become accustomed to being constantly stiff, making it all the better to have them massaged by the steamy spray.

After a couple minutes of just standing there relishing in the feel of the water, Ripley got to work on washing himself. He was about done when he smelled Brendan. Opening the curtain, Ripley saw his mate standing there, breathing heavily.

Ripley watched as Bren’s eyes trailed down his body, and Ripley responded. With Ripley’s body feeling better and the man he desired in front of him, there was nothing that was stopping them.

Ripley watched Bren strip, slowing stroking his aching erection as every inch of Bren’s body was revealed to him.

Bren straightened, completely naked, whole body trembling.

Ripley thought the trembling was in nerves before Brendan charged him, grabbing onto him and kissing him hard. Ripley growled and returned the kiss with as much fire as Bren was giving.

Turning, he pushed Bren against the wall, their wet, naked bodies colliding, hard cocks wet and rubbing against each other. Ripley deepened the kiss, craving a taste of Brendan, moaning. He finally felt grounded in this fucked-up world, and it was because of the man in his arms who took the time to be with him, care for him and sacrifice himself when he hadn't even known Ripley.

“I need you,” Brendan moaned.

“You’ve got me. Want to do this somewhere better?” Ripley nipped Brendan’s ear. He wanted to make love to Brendan.

“This is about as private as we can get. No doors.” Brendan pulled back, searching. “Do you want this? I thought things were…” Brendan looked down at the shower floor, dark, wet bangs covering his eyes.

Hell yes, I want this.
He cared for Brendan and wanted to move this to a whole other level. Ripley didn’t need to have anyone tell him that Brendan was his mate. He felt it now, and the mind and heart had caught up with the instinct. He had completely fallen in love with Brendan.

Ripley held Brendan close, hugging him almost too tightly. “I want this with you…so bad. We are more, Bren, and I’ve…” Ripley swallowed. “Fallen for you. I want us to be mates in every way.”

Brendan stared up with him and said it all with his beautiful brown eyes.
Dear gods, how the hell did I luck out?
This man loved him. It was all there right on Bren’s face. No words had to be spoken.

Ripley leaned down and kissed his mate, sure that this was it for him, that nothing would ever feel so right as this man in his arms. Love awoke the hunger, and his blood began to simmer once more, except stronger. Ripley grabbed a hold of Bren’s hair, holding Bren close so that he could pour all his want and need into the kiss.